


Table of Kings: Vignettes

by 00AwkwardPenguin00



Category: Brave (2012), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Brave Spoilers, Complete Scenes, Deleted Scenes, F/M, Gen, How to Train Your Dragon 2 Spoilers, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Not Beta Read, Not One Shots, Off-screen Relationship(s), Post-How to Train Your Dragon 2, Vignettes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-06-10 03:55:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6938626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/00AwkwardPenguin00/pseuds/00AwkwardPenguin00
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cross-posted on FF.net.</p><p>The best scenes from the first draft of my new work-in-progress, Table of Kings, which is undergoing a massive rewrite. Everything you need to know is in the tags, and there are author notes inside. </p><p>This is my first post to AO3! Wish me luck!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Scene One

**Author's Note:**

> About this "fic"- I've been working on this Brave/How to Train Your Dragon crossover for the better part of a year, and had gotten about two thirds of the thing completely plotted out. Being more of a "pantser" than a "planner", I started writing, and got about fifty pages in when I realized that my plot as I had planned it out was not going to work: left as it was, it made both my villain and Hiccup look like complete idiots. This could not stand, and so now I am in the process of completely reworking the plot to fix these errors. Of course, this means that the fifty or so pages I've written so far are now useless, but instead of deleting it outright, I've collected my favorite scenes to share with y'all. This is entirely hubristic on my part, but I figured, what the heck?
> 
> This vignette is from the first chapter, and introduces my OC Asdis Astridardottir Haddock, Hiccup's four year old daughter. I work with kids this age IRL, and I find them endlessly entertaining.

High Chief Hiccup Haddock rubbed the back of his neck as he studied the maps on the table in front of him. Over the past several weeks, Riders first from Uglythug, then Bashem, and finally Hysteria, had arrived to tell him that an entire fleet of Viking ships had been spotted to the west, sailing due south at an incredible speed. Now a fleet of ships weren’t an odd sight, considering that the Dragon Tribes of the Barbaric Archipelago lived in, obviously, an archipelago, but what had caught the Riders’ attentions was that one, the fleet was made up entirely of Dragonships, and two, there were a lot of them—at least twenty at last count. A simple trading expedition wouldn’t have nearly as many ships, and they’d be cargo ships instead of warships.

And what had set the Terrible Terror among the cod was the fact that what was obviously a raiding party didn’t have any accompanying dragons. That was what had really caused the Riders to think something was up, and they had gone straight to Berk to alert the High Chief to the anomaly.

Hiccup couldn’t think of any tribe in the Dragon Confederation of Viking Tribes that would send out a raiding party without dragons-- they provided a distinct tactical advantage in many areas, the least of which was their ability to scare the pants off of their enemies. With the Dragon Peace now spread through the majority of the Archipelago, it was a rare Viking that didn’t have at least one dragon companion. Hel, their Gothi was famous for being the first “crazy Terror lady”, with a flock of Terrors nearly a dozen strong living in her hut with her. It didn’t make any sense at all to go on a raid without dragons, and Hiccup couldn’t think of a single tribe in the Confederation that would.

He dimly heard the front door of his hall open, and little pattering feet raced toward him as a small body collided with his legs.

“Daddy!” Piped the high pitched voice of his daughter. “Daddy, look what me and Dart found! Look look look!”

Hiccup blinked and looked down at his offspring, wrapped around his right leg with her hatchling Terrible Terror perched on her honey blonde head. Big blue eyes stared pleadingly up into his, and Hiccup smiled and lifted the little girl up onto the table next to his maps.

"What'd you find, Princess?" He asked.

"Asdis!" A teenage girl rushed into the hall, her straw-colored braids disheveled and her clothes splattered with mud and grass stains. She blanched when she saw Hiccup, who raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, Chief, I'm so sorry; she got away from me!" The girl exclaimed, wringing her hands.

Hiccup glanced at Asdis, who gazed back at him innocently. He rolled his eyes and turned back to the frazzled babysitter.

"It's okay, Helga, I need a break anyway," he said with a shrug. "Go ahead and take the rest of the day. Disa and I'll spend the afternoon with Gobber at the forge. Thanks for the help, we'll see you tomorrow."

Helga visibly relaxed and nodded happily. "Yes, Chief," she said with a wide smile. "Have a good afternoon, Asdis, see you tomorrow!"

"Bye bye, Sissy!" Disa called, waving. Dart squawked happily from the little girl's shoulders.

Helga fled, and Hiccup turned back to his offspring, who was giggling with her dragon.

"Asdis Astridardottir Haddock," he growled, "did you make poor Helga chase you through the woods again?"

"Maaaaybe?" Disa sing songed quietly, peeking up at him through her shaggy fringe. In her arms, Dart chirruped in echo of his human.

Hiccup sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Disa, honey, I need you to be nice to Helga, okay? It's her job to take care of you when Amma Valka, Amma Ingrid, Gobber, and I are busy."

"But Daddy, I wanted to show you what me and Dart found!" Disa protested. She plopped Dart on the table beside her and rooted through her vest. She pulled out a purple shard and held it up triumphantly. "Look look look, Daddy, isn't it pretty? Dart thinks it's part of a Terror egg! Can I keep it, Daddy? I wanna put it in Mama's treasure box. Please, Daddy?"

Hiccup fought down the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat and nodded. "Yeah, sweetie, you can put it in Mama's box. Then how 'bout we go see what Gobber's up to at the forge, huh?"

"Yay!" Disa squealed, jumping down from the table and racing off to the loft where she and Hiccup slept, Dart at her heels. Hiccup followed, watching anxiously as the four-year-old and dragon scrambled up the stairs. A few seconds later, she scooted back down again on her rump, giggling as she landed on each step. Dart, who was just starting to learn to fly, jumped down a few steps at a time with his wings held open to slow the fall. Hiccup waited until her feet touched the floor before asking, "Ready to go?"

"Yup!" Disa chirped, standing up with a proud flourish. Dart took his final leap, flapped a couple of times, and landed in a heap on his human's head, where he hung onto her hair for dear life as she raced past Hiccup and out the door. Her father shook his head with a wry smile as he jogged after her.

Gobber's forge was bustling as he and his three apprentices fitted saddles, repaired weapons, and fixed dragon teeth. There was a large crowd of Vikings and dragons gathered outside, chatting, laughing, squawking, and screeching as they waited for their orders to be taken and filled. Hiccup scooped Disa up into his arms and settled her on his hip as he moved through the crowd. They reached the front, and stepped into the shade of the open air workshop.

"Gobber?" Hiccup called out, tightening his grip on Disa as she tried to squirm away.

"Hiccup!" Gobber hollered back. "Thenk Volundr yer here! Ah need ye tae run th' front fer me, we're swamped!"

"Got it!" Hiccup replied, moving to the service window. "You wanna work on your numbers, Princess?"

"Yeah yeah yeah!" Disa cheered. Hiccup set her down on the counter and took out a portable number sign. Glancing at the number display on the wall, he arranged the portable display to match, and showed it to Disa.

"What's that number, Disa?" He asked.

Disa studied the display and whispered, "Twenty six?"

"That's right, now yell it out really loud," Hiccup told her.

Disa scowled in concentration and took a deep breath.

" **TWENTY SIX**!" She bellowed shrilly, her voice rising high over the clamor of the assembled horde. The horde, as well as the rest of the village, went silent, staring at the little girl in shock.

Disa and Dart blinked innocently back at them, surprised by the sudden quiet. The little girl turned to Hiccup.

"Was I loud enough, Daddy?" She whispered.

"You sure were, Princess," Hiccup chuckled, ruffling her hair with one hand and fiddling with his ear with the other. "I think you burst a few eardrums, kiddo."

Disa lit up at the sarcastic praise. "Cool!"

The surrounding crowd chuckled, and a burly Viking elbowed his way to the front with a bright red Scuttleclaw at his shoulder.

"Tha's a pair o' lungs yer 'atchlin's got, Chief," he rumbled cheerfully. "Ain't been tha' deafen'd since th' las' time Elsie tore inta me fer lettin' Bloodstreak 'ere play fetch wi' 'er spear."

Hiccup laughed. "She got it from her mom," he said, dropping a quick kiss on top of Disa's head. "So what can we get you, Gnarr?"

The afternoon passed quickly as the crowd slowly shrank, and it wasn't until Disa started fussing that Hiccup realized he needed to get her home and feed her. Gobber waved them off gratefully, tickling Disa under the chin and cooing at her, and the two Haddocks wandered their way back up the hill to their hall.

Hiccup pushed open the door to find Valka standing before the firepit, stoking the flames under a large pot. Toothless was sprawled out on the floor, looking exhausted. He glanced up when the two humans entered, but other than a low, tired croon of greeting, didn't react.

"Amma Val!" Disa shrieked happily, leaping out of Hiccup's arms and racing over to the older woman. Valka intercepted her before she reached the firepit, scooping the little girl up and planting kisses all over her giggling face.

"Hey Mom," Hiccup greeted, grabbing a fur from the pile beside the firepit and tossing it over Toothless. The Night Fury purred as his human slumped down beside him, lounging against his fur-draped side.

"Evening, son," Valka replied, settling Disa on her hip as she tended the pot. "How was your day?"

"Frustrating, and then too busy to think." Hiccup rolled up his left trouser leg and began unfastening his prosthetic. "I took another look at the info about that unknown raiding party the Uglythugs, Bashems, and Hysterics spotted, but they couldn't get close enough to identify the tribe it belongs to. The prevailing theory is that the fleet came from somewhere in the north, but the lack of dragons throws the whole thing into question. I just can't think of any tribe that would go on a raid without dragons. It's really weird."

"I'm sure you'll figure it out, Hiccup," Valka soothed. She settled Disa into her feeding chair and handed her a piece of bread to gnaw on, then grabbed a bowl and started ladling out stew. She stuck a spoon into it and handed the bowl to Hiccup, who eyed it with trepidation.

"Oh hush, Ingrid sent it over while you and the hatchlings were out," Valka scolded, although a corner of her mouth curved up. Hiccup laughed half in relief as he tasted the stew.

"Hey, can't blame a guy for being cautious," he retorted, holding the bowl away from an eagerly sniffing Toothless. "The last time you cooked, the whole house smelled like rotting fish and burned dragon grass for a month!"

Valka dismissed that with a snort and a wave of her hand as she placed a shallow basket heaped with fish in front of Toothless, who buried his head in it and growled happily. "It was only two weeks, don't exaggerate," she said blithely. "Besides, we got to rack with the dragons at night while the hall aired out; Disa loved it. And so did you, almighty Chief."

Hiccup chuckled as he ate, remembering the period of time the five of them had slept in Cloudjumper's nest. The poor Stormcutter had been very confused and a bit irritated to find himself sharing his sleeping quarters with three humans and two extra dragons, even if one of those dragons was his Alpha.

He watched indulgently as Valka cajoled a fussy Disa into eating, cheering each time the four year old successfully fed herself with the spoon Hiccup had carved just for her. When Disa declared herself full, Valka cleaned up her stew-smeared face and then began their night-time ritual of pajama donning, teeth cleaning, and hair combing and braiding.

Hiccup placed his empty bowl aside and settled back against Toothless to watch sleepily. Valka hummed quietly as she gently combed the day's dirt and dust out of her granddaughter's long honey-blonde hair until it shone, cascading glossy and smooth down her back.

"One braid or two, sweeting?" She asked.

"Jus' one, Amma," Disa replied around a yawn.

"Okay, hold still." Valka's long, nimble fingers quickly weaved Disa's hair into a long thick braid, tying it off with a strip of soft suede. "All done, my good girl. Go say goodnight to Daddy and Toothless, now."

Disa stumbled sleepily over to her father and his dragon. "Night night Daddy," she mumbled, hugging Hiccup around the neck.

"Good night, Princess," Hiccup whispered, kissing her forehead and hugging her tight. When they let go, Disa toddled over to Toothless.

"Night night Tooth'ess," she mumbled, wrapping her little arms around the dragon's broad head. Toothless purred adoringly, nuzzling his little hatchling and breathing into her hair. When she sighed deeply, Toothless crooned and nudged her back towards Valka, who scooped her up and took her upstairs.

Hiccup sighed gustily, stretching out against Toothless's side and relaxing completely. "Another day done, bud," he murmured, his dragon sighing in agreement. "Disa gave Helga the slip again, made the poor girl chase her all over the island. I know she's smart for her age, and fast, but is it really that hard to keep track of a little girl? It's not like she's dangerous or anything- she's four. What's she gonna do, tie Helga up and blindfold her?"

Toothless snorted derisively.

"Man, I wish Dad or Astrid was here," Hiccup mumbled. "They'd know what to do. I feel like I'm flying blind, Toothless. She's only going to get smarter and sneakier, how can I make her understand that she has to listen to Helga, because Helga's supposed to keep her safe?"

Toothless purred supportively, curling around and resting his head in Hiccup's lap. His human smiled and stroked the ridge of spines bisecting his forehead.

"Enough of my whining, bud," he declared. "What'd you do all day, O Great Alpha of Berk? I haven't seen you since breakfast."

The Night Fury growled in mock irritation, then cheeped like a hatchling.

"Younglings giving you trouble too?" Hiccup guessed. Toothless snorted affirmatively and rolled his eyes.

"Seems to be a running theme," Hiccup mused.

The pair sat in relaxed, companionable silence, watching the flames dance in the firepit.


	2. Scene Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we have our first face to face meeting between HTTYD characters and Brave characters. Just FYI, Lord Alpein of Clan Mackintosh is the Young Mackintosh in Brave, the boy with the hair. I don't think I made that very clear in this first draft, which is something I'm planning on fixing in the second.

Lord Alpein of Clan Mackintosh was thoroughly sick of sailing- both figuratively _and_ literally. He and his small contingent of sailors had left the shores of the Mackintosh lands nearly a fortnight ago, and if Lord Mackintosh had merely disliked sailing before, he hated it now.

The rations he and his men ate were awful, even supplemented by whatever fish could be caught while on the move. The water they had brought along in casks tasted stale after a mere two days. The sun and wind blistered his gorgeous fair skin terribly, despite the lotion his wife had packed for him. The scenery was monotonous, and the half-terrifying sight of a potential sea-serpent got old after the twelfth occurrance. And Lord Mackintosh's crew was completely convinced that they were on a bloody suicide mission.

To be fair, Lord Mackintosh agreed with his men wholeheartedly. Vikings didn't care who they plundered, even if this new leader of the so-called "Dragon Tribes" was a rumored pacifist (bloody manky coward). He was sure that the moment his ship entered Confederation waters, giant howling barbarians on oversized fire-breathing flying lizards would descend upon his poor little vessel and sink it straight to the bottom of the sea, leaving him and his crew for sea-serpent chow.

However, he knew better than to say any of that out loud; crew morale was bad enough as it was, his men didn't need to know that their leader was as nervous as they were.

Mackintosh glanced at his navigator, who was studying his map by the light of a small oil lamp. "We on the right track, Iagan?"

"Och aye, mah laird," he answered with a nod, "We shoods be seein' a coople ay bludy huge staine guards onie moment now- they mark th' mouth ay th' harbur."

"Brilliant," Mackintosh murmured. "A'right, lads, we're nearly tae our destination, jist a wee length more tae go. Anyain has weapons, best stow 'em now, 'afore we're mistaken for enemies."

"A little late for that, fellas, but the sentiment's appreciated," called a man's voice from somewhere above them. Mackintosh started violently for Stab Blooder, his favorite sword, but didn’t dare draw it.

“Aye? And who do Ah have th' pleasure o' addressin’ on this lovely morn?” He asked instead.

“Oh, just a pair of curious busybodies,” the voice replied cheerfully. “You mind dropping anchor? We’d like to chat for a moment or two.”

Mackintosh scowled. “Ah’ll do nae such thing, mah lord ghostie, ‘til Ah see ye wi’ mah own two eyes,” he growled. “Show yerself, or leave us be!”

There was a strange _whoosh_ , like a length of cloth being shaken after hanging on the clothesline, and suddenly a huge black shadow reared up in the air before them, a silhouette as black as the Laird of Hell’s waistcoat against the pale gray sky.

Mackintosh clenched his jaw to keep from crying out, his men cursing violently in shock and fear.

The shadow blinked huge, intelligent green eyes at them, and bared gleaming white, terrifyingly sharp teeth with a low growl.

Then, to Mackintosh’s complete shock, a _human hand_ appeared on the shadow’s broad head, and the growling stopped. The hand was followed by a figure clad in black leather armor, a small red sigil stamped into the upper right corner of the breastplate. The figure wore a helmet that completely covered his face but for two narrow eye-slits.

“Drop your anchor, please,” the figure ordered, eye-slits trained straight at Mackintosh.

The young lord stared at the figure, and felt his palms start to sweat.

“Drop it,” he ordered hoarsely. No one spoke, but a splash off the port side signified that his order had been carried out.

The figure leaned back, all of the aggression in his form suddenly gone. “There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” He asked, voice warm and pleasant. “So, first issue- who are you?”

Mackintosh stepped forward, puffing out his chest proudly. “Ah am Alpein, Lord o' Clan Mackintosh o' th' kingdom o' DunBroch. And who might ye be?”

“All in good time, Lord Alpein,” the figure replied. “DunBroch- on the Great Island of Alba, right? To the south? You guys are pretty far out of your way. You get lost or something?”

Beside him, Mackintosh felt Iagan bristle, but the lord ignored him. “We are on an urgent mission for th’ Queen of DunBroch, and time is o’ th' essence!” He snarled.

The figure cocked his head to the side like a curious pup. “Oh? What kind of mission?”

“It’s nae concern o’ yer's, ye great flyin’ galoot!” Mackintosh retorted. “Quit larkin’ about and let us pass, or else show us th’ way tae Berk, ye glaikit chookter!”

The beast flapping above them let out another savage growl, and Mackintosh felt his knees turn to pudding. The human on its back rubbed a hand on its head, soothing it, and sighed gustily.

“See, I’m afraid I can’t do that,” he said with what Mackintosh was sure was false regret. “Not until I know you’re not gonna cause any trouble. What do you want with Berk?”

Mackintosh seethed. “We seek an audience wi’ th’ High Chief o’ th’ Dragon Confederation o’ Viking Tribes,” he ground out. “It’s o’ utmost importance that we see him immediately. Would ye like a song an’ dance as well, my lord ghostie, or may we pass?”

“Are you offering?”

For a moment, Mackintosh couldn’t speak at all. He stared the figure and his huge beast, too incensed for words, until the man(?) suddenly laughed.

“Relax, you’re clear,” he said lightly. “Go ahead and hoist anchor, I’ve got to go announce you so you don’t get blasted. Someone will meet you at the Guardians to guide you into port.”

With another enormous _whoosh_ and a gust of wind, the shadow and its rider disappeared.

Mackintosh shakily sat down on a barrel, smoothing his wild black hair back with a trembling hand. “Bloody hell,” he whispered.


	3. Scene Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lord Mackintosh inserts his foot into his mouth, and Vikings are actually capable of restraint (at least when threatened by a Night Fury).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which I try to keep everyone in character while placing them in situations we've never seen them in before. We'll see how that works out, eh? Let me know what you think!

Mackintosh could've sworn that the Vikings were taunting them. When his ship had arrived at the huge Guardian statues, an equally huge dragon with _four wings_ was waiting for them, with a human standing on its back. The human waved a staff made of pale wood in an obvious request to follow, and the dragon wheeled about and started flapping towards the island. Mackintosh ordered his men accordingly, compensating for the lack of wind in the sheltered harbor by ordering the oars to be brought out. As he stood at the prow, his men rowed the ship into port, where it was tied up at the docks.

The dragon that met them didn't land, but hovered over the dock as its human jumped down from its back. "Thank you, my friend," the human called, voice husky and clear and obviously _female_. Mackintosh's suspicions were confirmed when the human turned to face them, all large hazel eyes, wide, high cheekbones, and clean shaven face.

"Greetings," she said. "I am Valka, matriarch of the Haddock family. The Chief requested that I guide you into port and escort you to the Great Hall."

"Thank ye, Lady Valka," Mackintosh replied, trying not to stare at the woman who was dressed like a warrior. Her only apparent concession to her gender was an ankle length russet skirt with a hip-high slit revealing long, leather-wrapped legs, and long brown hair bound in multiple braids down her back. "I am Alpein, Lord of Clan Mackintosh of the Kingdom of DunBroch, and these men are the crew of my ship. Please excuse our timing, it seems our calculations were a wee bit off."

Valka smiled coolly. "That's all right. If you would please follow me?"

She then led them through a veritable maze of trails, most of them uphill, until even his hardiest men were gasping for breath. They finally came to a stop before a large wooden building, decorated with colorfully painted carvings of dragons.

"This is the Great Hall," Valka declared. "By order of the High Chief, no blades longer than the bearer's hand are allowed inside. Please remove all swords and place them here." She indicated a large weapons rack where a few enormous axes were already hung.

"May Ah ask why your High Chief ordered such a thing?" Mackintosh asked suspiciously.

"The Great Hall is the center of village life," Valka answered, expression cool. "It is where the citizens of Berk eat, socialize, and meet to discuss matters of importance to the village and its inhabitants. It is not a place for weapons—our chief believes that if weapons are easily at hand, simple arguments could become dangerous were someone to lose their head and attack. Our dragons are also welcome inside, and have an aversion to weapons. In order for everyone, human and dragon, to feel safe and welcome within these walls, the High Chief ordered a ban on blades longer than the bearer's hand, as well as archery equipment, spears, and blunt weapons. I assure you, gentlemen, that no one within that hall is armed with anything more than a dirk."

Mackintosh believed her, but he was still unsure. However, the mission was more important than his pride, and with a nod to his men, he unbuckled his sword belt and hung it on the rack. One by one, his men followed suit, and when Valka was satisfied that every scrap of weaponry was stripped from them, she pounded on the massive doors of the Hall.

A moment later, they were opened, and she strode inside. Mackintosh followed, his men tightly grouped together behind him, made nervous by their perceived vulnerability in the face of a crowd of enormous Vikings.

The crowd parted before Valka, revealing an enormous throne positioned before a large firepit. A lean young man, barely a year or so older than Mackintosh himself, lounged comfortably upon it, while a second young man, much more broad and dark, stood to the throne's right with arms crossed. The young man on the throne was dressed in a green tunic edged in gold embroidery, with sleeves short enough to show off his lithely muscled forearms, and wrists wrapped in dark leather. Beneath it he wore leggings of the same dark, soft leather, but instead of matching boots, his left leg ended in a fancy looking leather and metal peg. At his feet sprawled an enormous black shadow, which blinked bright green, _intelligent_ eyes at them.

Realization struck like lightning, as Valka announced, "Lord Mackintosh, may I present Hiccup the Innovator, High Chief of the Dragon Confederation of Viking Tribes, and Chief of the Hairy Hooligan Tribe of Berk. My Chief, may I present Lord Alpein of Clan Mackintosh, hailing from the Kingdom of DunBroch."

The High Chief smirked slightly, intelligent green eyes that matched the beast's at his feet dancing. "I believe we've met. Have they given you any trouble, Mom?"

_Mom?_ Mackintosh thought, fighting to keep his expression blank as Valka smirked back at her son.

"Not at all, Hiccup, they were perfect gentlemen the entire trip up from the docks," she replied. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must see to the hatchlings."

"Absolutely, send Dart if you need anything," Hiccup replied, nodding. "Maybe see to accommodations for our guests, if you have a moment?"

"Of course, my Chief." With a nod at the High Chief, she strode past the Mackintosh delegation and out of the Hall.

Mackintosh turned to the High Chief, incensed. "What're ye playin' at, Chief? First ye and yer great beastie messin' us about, then sendin' yer bloody _mum_ out tae meet us and lead us hither and yon afore bringin' us here? Are ye a man or a wee simperin' _coward_?"

He regretted the words the instant they came out of his mouth, as a veritable wall of noise blasted him from the Vikings surrounding them. Everywhere he turned, snarling huge faces, most adorned with helmets bedecked with a pair or more of horns, shouted and cursed at him, waving fists, spoons, and even fish threateningly.

A terrible growl filled the air, silencing the mass of snarling humanity, which parted to reveal the Chief's dragon standing beside the throne, teeth bared and catlike pupils slitted. The Chief was still seated in the throne, although he wasn't as relaxed as before. When the growling was the only sound to be heard in the hall, he placed a hand on the beast's head, silencing it.

"Thanks, bud," he murmured, before meeting Mackintosh's eyes with a glare. "You're extremely lucky I've banned weapons from the Great Hall, Lord Mackintosh. In my father's day, you would've died where you stood for insulting my people's leader like that. Fortunately for you, I'm much more forgiving of insults. However, that was your one and only shot. The next time you insult me, my people, or my dragons, your ship will be taken to open sea and burned to the waterline with you inside it. Am I clear?"

Mackintosh gulped, nodding numbly. "Aye, milord."

The Chief nodded sharply, and his dragon folded itself up like a cat, relaxed but alert. "Now that all that chest thumping and muscle flexing is out of the way," the Chief said, resting his elbows on his knees and resting his chin on his folded hands, "you said you wanted an audience with me. Well, here you are, and here I am, so what do you want?"

Mackintosh cleared his throat. "Ah come by th' order o' Elinor, Queen o' DunBroch," he began. "A fortnigh' ago, a ship of Viking design an' bearing th' sigil o' a Dragon Tribe upon its sail attacked a small village in my lands. All o' th' menfolk and a fair number o' women an' children were slaughtered in tha' attack, th' first in at leas' two generations. Since th' attack occurred on my lands, my Queen bade me come here as swiftly as Ah could, tae ask ye if ye had any knowledge o' this travesty?"

As he spoke, Mackintosh noticed the Chief's expression grow more and more dark—his eyebrows lowered, his mouth pulled into a deep frown, his jaw clenched. When Mackintosh finished, the Chief sat back in his throne, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"I can honestly say that I have no knowledge of any raids planned for two weeks ago," he said finally. "And I'm absolutely appalled at the thought of _my_ people attacking a village like that for no apparent reason. Just for clarification, Lord Mackintosh, how did you come to know about this outrage?"

Mackintosh blinked. Was the High Chief of _Vikings_ as upset about this as he was? "Er, a woman and her bairns survived and walked fer three days tae bring th' news tae th' Queen a' DunBroch."

The Chief nodded thoughtfully. "And this woman, did she say if she saw any dragons accompanying the raiding party?"

Suddenly, Mackintosh understood, and he racked his brain to remember what the Princess had told him. "Ah dinnae think so, Chief," he said slowly. "She only talked about the sigil on the sails, but Ah havenae heard any reports of dragons accompanying the raiders."

The Chief nodded sharply. "Fishlegs, I need the Book of Dragon Tribes," he ordered, and Mackintosh was confused for a moment until a giant of a man with a short blond braid and clothed entirely in furs hurried up to the throne and handed over a slim stack of parchments bound in leather. The Chief took the book, nodded in thanks, and stood to address the Hall.

"I hope that this is just a misunderstanding, but considering our luck, I kind of doubt it," he said. "Therefore, as a sign of goodwill and cooperation between our two nations, I will be traveling to DunBroch to meet with its Queen and help sort this out. I'll try to be back before the first freeze, but if I'm not, I'll send a Terror back with an explanation. Snotlout will be Acting Chief while I'm gone."

"Wait, what?" The dark man at the Chief's right said stupidly, gawking at the Chief. The taller man smirked and clapped his friend on the shoulder.

"Take advantage of it, Snotlout," he said, chuckling. He turned back to Mackintosh. "We'll leave at dawn tomorrow, so your men have time to rest and resupply. We have a bathhouse, please feel free to use it." The door of the Hall opened, and Mackintosh turned to see Valka, devoid of armor but still somehow looking as fierce as any of the male warriors around them, enter with a basket on her hip.

"My Chief, the Guest Hall is ready for our visitors," she called.

"Excellent, thanks Mom," the Chief called. "Gentlemen, if you would excuse me, I need to get my people ready."

Mackintosh knew a dismissal when he heard it, and nodded. "Thank ye, Chief," he said. "C'mon, lads."

"Lord Mackintosh, if you would follow me, I'll show you and your men to your quarters," Valka requested.

"Aye, thank ye, Lady Valka," Mackintosh replied. With a last nod to the Chief, Mackintosh led his men out of the Hall.


	4. Scene Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hiccup and Mackintosh meet on their own terms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this scene picks up the morning after Scene Three took place-- I wanted to show that (Young) Mackintosh isn't quite the vain brat the movie depicts him as. It takes a lot of work to get a body like his, after all. I also wanted to give Hiccup an ally to have his back when they finally get to DunBroch, because as you'll see in the final two chapters, I had planned for the Vikings to not get a very warm welcome.
> 
> BTW, thank y'all for the kudos and comments! They make my day!

Having completed the routine to his satisfaction, and dripping with sweat even in the cold morning air, Mackintosh finally picked up his pride and joy, the claymore sword Stab Blooder.

He was halfway through his swordplay routine when he noticed the hair on the back of his neck rise. He turned to find the High Chief leaning against a nearby fence, a silvery sword slung over his shoulder.

“Nice moves,” he called, a crooked grin on his face.

“Thank ye, Chief,” Mackintosh replied. “Been practicin’ since Ah was a wee bairn. Placed first in the DunBroch Games last four years runnin’.”

“Impressive,” the Chief acknowledged with a nod. “What kind of sword is that? I’ve never seen one that long before.”

Mackintosh grinned and twirled Stab Blooder with a flourish. “A Highland Claymore, Chief, best sword in the world,” he declared. “Fancy a try?”

The Chief shrugged, but Mackintosh could see the excited light in his green eyes. He leaned his own sword against the fence, lithely faulted over it, and strode over to the Scot with nary a limp, despite his interesting looking peg leg. Impressed despite himself, Mackintosh handed over his sword for the other man’s inspection.

To his surprise, the High Chief went over it like a blacksmith, barely blinking at the weight despite his weediness, testing the balance on a finger, and giving it a few swings.

“Yer corriejukit!” Mackintosh exclaimed.

The Chief paused in mid-swing, looking at Mackintosh blankly. “Come again?”

“Yer corriejukit-- ye go wi’ yer lef’ hand, ‘stead o’ yer righ’,” Mackintosh explained. “Aren’t many men can do tha’, and do it well. Did ye teach yerself tha’?”

“Nope, born that way,” the Chief replied briskly, handing the sword back. “Took a good fifteen years for my combat teachers to figure it out-- or if they knew, they ignored it. A few even claimed it was proof that I was the spawn of Loki or something.”

“Loki?” Mackintosh asked.

“God of Chaos and Mischief,” the Chief answered, retrieving his sword. “Wanna spar?”

“My pleasure, Chief,” Mackintosh replied, grinning. “Shall we?”

With barely a breath, the Viking attacked, and Mackintosh barely got his sword up in time to prevent the Chief from taking off his head. What followed was the fiercest practice spar Mackintosh had ever participated in. The Chief was _fast_ \-- especially for a man with only one leg. Just to see what would happen, Mackintosh took a swipe at that fancy peg leg, and got a punch in the face for his trouble, even as the Viking's sword hand blocked the strike.

Finally, the Chief disarmed Mackintosh and pinned him to the ground, with his blade barely a hairsbreadth from the Scot’s throat.

“That was great!” The Chief enthused, bouncing back up and pulling Mackintosh to his feet with a strength that belied his slim, willowy frame. “I haven’t had a spar like that in years! I’ve never really considered myself the real warrior type, but man, that was actually really fun! We’re gonna have to do that again sometime!”

Mackintosh watched the Viking with a bemused smile on his face. “Tha’ was a good figh’, Chief,” he said, dusting off his leggings and retrieving his sword. “Ah havenae had anyain bes’ me like tha’ in a great long time. Guess yer nae so bad after all.”

The Chief raised a sardonic eyebrow. “Gee, thanks, my lord,” he drawled. “I wasn’t aware I had such a bad rep down south.”

Mackintosh shrugged. “Ah was fully expectin’ tae be blown tae kingdom come afore ye could say ‘dragon!’,” he replied. “Ye Vikings do have a wee bit o’ a legend fer bein’ righ’ bloodthirsty buggers.”

“That’s true,” the Chief sighed. “I’ve been trying to change that, but it’s pretty hard to go against a few centuries worth of instinct and tradition. That’s actually part of the reason I’m coming to DunBroch with you. If I can convince your queen that Vikings aren’t all bad, it would go a long way towards convincing my people that we don’t have to fight anymore.”

“Well, ye’ve changed my mind, Chief,” Mackintosh said, extending a hand for the Viking to shake. “Ah’ll help ye anyway Ah can.”

“Thank you, Lord Mackintosh,” the Chief said, grasping Mackintosh’s hand and giving it a firm shake. “We’d better start getting ready to go, the sun’ll be up in about half an hour. I’ll show you back down to the docks in a little bit.”

“Aye, Chief, we’ll be ready,” Mackintosh nodded.

“See you in a bit!” The Chief hefted his sword and jogged off, waving.

Mackintosh watched him leave, chuckling to himself, before turning and going back into the hall to wake up his men.


	5. Scene Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we have the first clash between Viking and Scottish forces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to admit, I did not mean to make Merida as bloodthirsty as she comes across here-- I wanted her to have bravado, but only that. I'm going on the assumption that the last war the Scots ever fought was the one described in the movie, that drew the Four Clans together, and which took place before Merida was born. Therefore, Merida has never actually participated in any kind of real war, and I wanted her attitude to reflect that: bravado with no experience to back it up. Unfortunately, Merida didn't want to cooperate, and so you see her really getting into things.

Circling above the castle, Hiccup could see the attacking force immediately: a single ship, rapidly rowing towards the shore. Toothless slowly and soundlessly descended towards it, getting a closer look.

“Definitely a Dragonship, bud,” Hiccup whispered. “And a big one. Probably about eighty guys, give or take.”

They followed the ship until it was within swimming distance of the shore.

“Let’s hope Princess Merida got her men in position,” Hiccup muttered. “Okay, Toothless, one shot right at the base of the mast. Three, two, one… now!”

Toothless spat out a blast of plasma, which hit the ship and exploded, sheering off the mast and blasting a huge hole right in the middle of the ship. The ship went down in seconds, with men climbing over each other to swim to shore. Hiccup was amused to see that the Princess waited until a few men had reached land before she and her men jumped out of the foliage and engaged them, and he and Toothless carefully herded the rest of the men towards the vengeful Scots.

In less than half an hour, sixty three bruised and battered Vikings were sitting on the ground, stripped of weapons and armor, gagged, and tied hand and foot.

“Well done, Princess,” Hiccup said, smirking approvingly.

“Thank ye, Chief, ‘twas a nice wee workout,” the Princess replied, brushing off her tunic. “Know any o’ those buggers?”

Hiccup studied the men, as Toothless came to stand next to him, nose working furiously. The dragon growled suddenly, and Hiccup glanced at him.

“Looks like Toothless recognizes one of them,” he said. “Care to share with the class, bud?”

Toothless trotted into the group, nudging and shoving men out of his way, before taking the back of one man’s tunic into his mouth and carrying him over to Hiccup and the Princess like a mother wolf retrieving a recalcitrant pup. The man struggled the whole way, grunting and growling behind the gag, and when Toothless dropped him with a thud at their feet, he tried to wriggle away, but was stopped by the dragon’s heavy paw on his chest.

Hiccup frowned. Something about the man was familiar, but it wasn’t until Princess Merida signaled one of her men to remove the gag and the man’s high, grating voice reached his ears that he recognized him.

The gold Skrill belt buckle had been exchanged for a simple iron one, with a coiled Whispering Death sigil etched on the front. The spiky red hair had grown out into a long tangled mess of a braid, matched by a scraggly braided beard. But the hatred in the dark green eyes remained unchanged.

Dagur the Deranged snarled up at Hiccup, and the High Chief exchanged glances with his dragon. What in the Nine Realms was the banished ex-Chief of the Berserkers doing here, of all places?

“Fancy finding you here, Dagur,” he drawled, crouching down next to the pinned Viking.

“Y’know how it is, Hiccup,” Dagur replied. “Banishment gets boring after a while. I needed some fun.”

“I’m sure.” Hiccup rolled his eyes. “So is this your party, or are you just here for giggles and mayhem?”

Dagur sneered. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Ah certainly would,” the Princess growled, hands on her hips.

Dagur smirked lecherously at her. “Well _hello_ , Princess. Pleasure to finally meet you—so sorry about the invasion of your kingdom, but y’know how it is with real Vikings: so many lands and peoples to conquer, so little time!”

“Hold yer tongue, ye howlin’ radge!” The Princess snapped. “Chief Hiccup, wha’ in th’ Goddess’ name is th’ meanin’ o’ this? Who is this scunner?”

Hiccup smirked as well, although he was dangerously close to simply lopping Dagur’s head off to stop him looking at the Princess that way. “Princess Merida, meet Dagur the Deranged, former Chief of the Berserker Tribe of the Dragon Confederation. Probably stowed away with the rest of the rats.”

“You wish, Hiccup,” Dagur snorted. “I’m heading up this shindig!”

The Princess snorted indelicately. “Ah highly doubt tha’, if yer as gormless as ye look.”

Hiccup did his best not to grin. Dagur was very proud and loved to brag. With the Princess as a brand new audience to play to, all they had to do was wait.

“It’s true!” Dagur whined. “I was sent ahead to secure DunBroch, so I’m in charge!”

“But you’re not the top dragon in the flock, are you?” Hiccup asked, smirking. “Someone else is calling the shots—someone a lot bigger and meaner than you, I’d bet.”

For a split second, he thought the insane Viking looked _scared_. Then the expression disappeared, and Dagur gloated.

“I guess it couldn’t hurt for the lovely Princess to learn the name of her conqueror ahead of time,” he drawled.

“Ah cannae hardly wait,” the Princess snapped.

“Ooh, feisty,” Dagur grinned. “My Chief’s gonna have fun with you, sweetheart.”

The Princess went red with rage, and Hiccup decided to wrap things up before she ran the crazy moron through. A single glance at Toothless, and the paw on Dagur’s chest pressed down harder on the man’s sternum, causing his ribs to creak ominously.

“Fun’s over, Dagur,” Hiccup stated, fighting to keep his voice from descending into a growl. “I want the name of the tribe you’ve joined, and their Chief. Now.”

Dagur blew a raspberry and sneered at Hiccup. “Or what? Your overgrown lizard’s gonna sit on me?”

“Nae,” the Princess cut in, “Ah’ll cut yer bits off wi’ a rusty knife an’ feed ‘em back tae ye in a haggis made o’ yer own guts.”

Both men stared at her, Dagur greener than a fresh shoot of dragon grass, and Hiccup not bothering to hide his impressed smirk.

“You’d make a fine Viking, Princess,” he declared. “So, Dagur? What’ll it be?”

Dagur turned terrified green eyes on him. “It’s the Mad Marauders! From Freezing-to-Death!” He yelped. “Dyrvaldr the Cruel is the Chief now, he killed Gunni the Grave! He’s on his way here now, with the rest of the tribe!”

Hiccup felt his blood turn cold. “Toothless, let him up.”

Toothless growled, flicking an earflap in confusion, but moved away, and Dagur scrambled to his feet. He flinched from the murderous glare the Princess was giving him, and kept his eyes on the ground.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, Dagur,” Hiccup said, thinking quickly. “You’re going to tell me everything you know about Dyrvaldr and his force, and I’ll send you back to your ship. I don’t care where you go after that, as long as you never enter Confederation or Alban waters or lands again. Don’t talk, and I’ll be presenting your head as a gift for the Queen of DunBroch. Understand?”

Dagur’s eyes met his, and a perfectly insane grin grew slowly on the other Viking’s face. “Dyrvaldr is going to burn this kingdom to the ground, Hiccup,” he said, blandly, as though commenting on the weather. “He’s going to take that castle up there apart stone by stone, and use them to crush everything that stands in his way. And once DunBroch falls, your ridiculous Confederation is next. He’s going to kill your entire tribe, put every dragon’s head on a trophy wall, and there’s not a _single damn thing_ you can do to stop him!”

Madness lit up the ex-Berserker’s face in a parody of joy, and Hiccup felt a shiver run down his spine. He quickly struck Dagur’s temple with the butt of his sword, knocking the man out cold. Retrieving some rope from one of Toothless’s saddlebags, he quickly tied the other Viking up, and turned to the shocked Scots.

“Princess, you and your men should head back to the castle,” he told her. “I’m going to dispose of this,” he gave the lump of Dagur a kick in the ribs, “and do some scouting. I’ll report back by noon.”

Princess Merida nodded, and Hiccup switched out his leg and swung himself up onto Toothless’s back. Toothless grabbed the bundle of Dagur in his front paws, and took off, winging off towards the bottom of the loch. The sun was rising, and Hiccup kept it to his back, following the water southwest. He had Toothless drop Dagur in a nice little clearing on the edge of the loch, and then they headed up into the clouds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I admit, I haven't watched the HTTYD TV and Netflix series, so I'm basing Dagur's characterization on his HTTYD Wiki page, and the sound of his voice on a few YouTube clips. Sorry if it's way off base.


	6. Scene Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Merida loses her temper, learns some truths, and joins a club.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the last "chapter" of this compilation, and honestly, the one I'm most proud of, even as it signaled the complete left turn at Albuquerque I had taken from my plot. Be warned, it contains spoilers of a sort for my actual fic, but the date and manner of the event in question is going to change anyway, so it's really up to you, Reader, if you wish to continue on.

Merida and Elinor were in the library when Maudie announced that Chief Hiccup had returned, and needed to see them straightaway. The two women shared a Look.

"Show him in, Maudie," Elinor commanded. The maid curtsied and waddled out, and within minutes, Chief Hiccup strode in, helmet under his arm, still dressed in his armor.

"Queen Elinor, Princess Merida," he said, nodding sharply. "We found the rest of the invasion force—they're only a few hours away. They'll reach DunBroch Castle by sundown tomorrow at the latest."

Merida felt her heart sink, and heard her mother stifle a gasp. The Queen remained composed, though, and just asked, "How many?"

"Ten ships, so about eight hundred warriors," the Chief replied, green eyes grave. "Just days before Lord Macintosh arrived at Berk, my Riders reported that a party of twenty ships was spotted heading south. If this is the same force, we could be looking at an army of over a thousand, if the Chief sends for the rest of his fleet."

"Mother, e'en wi' th' men frae Macintosh, McGuffin, an' Dingwall, we only hae seven hundred an' fifty warriors!" Merida exclaimed, running the numbers in her head.

"Add in my eighty, and we just barely break even," Chief Hiccup added. "But even if we fight off this force, there's another eight hundred waiting to sail up the lake. They're probably getting ready to sail, if they haven't already. Dyrvaldr's throwing everything he's got at you guys."

Merida watched Elinor pace, feeling sick to her stomach. The last war DunBroch had taken part in had ended before she was born, and there hadn't been a single serious threat until these Vikings arrived. Her people, while still fierce, weren't used to war. _She_ wasn't used to war.

"Chief Hiccup," Elinor began slowly, stopping her pacing and standing tall before the Viking High Chief, "ye said ye would do everythin' in yer power tae aid in our defense. Ah humbly request any warriors ye can provide to supplement our forces."

"Done," the Chief said immediately. "I'll send a message to the nearest Confederation tribe myself, within the hour."

"Mum!" Merida exclaimed, staring at Elinor in shock. "Yer goin' tae ask him tae bring e'en _more_ Vikings here? How dae we know they'll nae just turn on us soon as th' firs' group's gubbed?"

Elinor colored in embarrassment. "Merida! Ah cannae believe ye just said tha'! Apologize tae th' Chief a' once!"

"No need, Queen Elinor, she's got a point," Chief Hiccup drawled. "We do have that reputation, after all. Doesn't matter that everything I've done since becoming Chief of my own tribe has been to reverse that stereotype; we Vikings just can't be trusted, can we?" The man's green eyes flashed as he turned a fierce glare on Merida. "If that's truly how you feel, Princess, then rest assured, as soon as this mess is taken care of, my people and I will ship out, and no Viking of the Dragon Confederation will ever set foot on Alba's shores again. As my word of honor as a Viking isn't enough for you, your Queen can banish us, if that makes you feel better."

He turned back to Elinor. "With your permission, Your Majesty, I'll see about arranging those reinforcements for you."

"Please, wi' all haste, milord," Elinor replied.

The Chief nodded to her, shot a last poisonous glare at Merida, and strode out of the library, his prosthetic foot clicking on the flagstones.

Merida yelped as Elinor's palm connected with the back of her head.

"Ah swear tae Scotia, lass, Ah've never been so ashamed o' me own kin!" The Queen hissed. "Where is yer head, Merida? Ye just insulted th' most powerful man in th' North!"

The princess felt her face heat. "If he's so bloody powerful, why's he nae able tae control his own people?" She snapped. "This whole mess is his fault! We're on th' brink o' _war_ because o' him an' his bloody, Scotia-damned Viking barbarians!"

"Ah _know_ Ah taught ye better than tha', Merida!" The Queen thundered, burying her fingers in her hair. She whipped away from Merida in a twirl of hair and skirts, and through the red haze of anger and fear and the sound of her pulse in her ears, Merida could see her mother visibly trying to calm herself down.

Elinor sighed heavily, and faced Merida again. "We dinnae hae time for this," she said quietly. "Merida, Ah understan' tha' yer frightened—Ah am as well. But ye _cannae_ be takin' it out on our allies! We need whatever warriors Chief Hiccup can give us, be they Vikings or Scots or dragons! Now, go calm yerself doon, an' when ye can conduct yerself like a future Queen should, find Chief Hiccup and apologize fer yer rudeness."

Merida clenched her teeth, biting back a retort. A tiny voice in the back of her mind told her that Elinor was right, but the princess was too incensed to listen. With a snarl of frustration, she stormed out of the library and up to her bedchamber, where she grabbed her sword, bow, and quiver. Still fuming, she stalked back downstairs and out of the keep, passing by the armory and grabbing an archery target as she did so. People gave her a wide berth as she headed down to the Gamesfield, and she paid them no mind, juggling the unwieldy target and muttering to herself. Finding a large, empty patch of field, she shoved the target upright, kicking the back leg into place with a hissed curse. She stomped ninety one paces, strung her bow, yanked an arrow out of her quiver, nocked, drew, aimed, and released.

Nocked, drew, aimed, and released.

By the fifth arrow, her breathing slowed. By the tenth, her ears stopped ringing. Fifteen, and her mind was quiet. After twenty five arrows, her quiver was empty. Sighing heavily, she slung her bow over her shoulder, and began the long trek back to the target.

The wood and straw circle bristled with arrow shafts like an angry hedgehog, and Merida wasn't surprised to see the ground around it littered as well. It wasn't like she was _aiming_ , or anything. She collected the arrows and counted out the paces again, and lost herself in the rhythm of nock, draw, aim, and release.

The princess stayed out in the field for hours, until the failing light made her aim truly awful, and she had to stop before she accidently shot someone. There were far fewer arrows in the target than on the ground, and she began collecting them with a sigh.

"Pretty impressive, Princess."

Merida's spine stiffened at the nasally voice. "Think ye can do better, Chief?" She growled, whirling around to face him.

Green eyes blinked, russet brows rose, and Chief Hiccup held his hands up in an _I'm harmless!_ gesture. "Easy there, Princess Spitfire, I'm giving you a compliment!" He protested. "I can barely hit the broad side of a dragon stable from two _faðmr_. That you can hit anything at all from _thirty_ _faðmr_ is amazing!"

"Oh. Thank ye." To her horror, Merida felt herself blushing, and made herself busy pulling arrows out of the target and ground. The Chief seemed content to just stand in silence, thumbs hooked into his belt, green eyes studying the wood beyond the Field with a faraway expression.

Finally, curiosity got the better of her. "Where's th' great Lord Dragon?"

"Hmm?" The Chief blinked. "Oh, you mean Toothless? He's napping with Disa. He's nocturnal by nature, so he's a lot less active during the day."

"An' how's yer bairn?" She slid her arrows back into the quiver. Still a few short. "Ah'd imagine she was a wee bit frightened las' nigh', an' then her dad dinnae come back until near noon."

"Eh, she's used to me coming and going," the Chief shrugged, snagging an arrow off the ground and handing it to her. "Perils of being High Chief—everyone seems to want to deal with you personally. She was a bit freaked out at the chaos at the end of the feast, but Eret and Skullcrusher looked after her. They're good babysitters."

"Who'd've thunk?" Merida muttered, shoving the arrow into her quiver.

"I know, right?" The Chief chuckled. "Eret used to be this badass dragon-trapper, and Skullcrusher was my dad's Rumblehorn. When Dad died, Skullcrusher chose Eret to be his new Rider, and they've been together ever since. They pretend that they're these crazy badass warriors, but they turn to slush when they're around Disa, or any little kid or hatchling. It's hilarious to watch."

"Wha' aboot Disa's mother? Yer wife? Shouldnae _she_ be takin' care o' yer bairn?" Merida sneered. She regretted it instantly, as the Chief's green eyes, dancing with mirth just a moment ago, dulled with pain before dropping to the ground.

"She's dead," he mumbled. "Last winter."

"Oh, Ah'm so sorry, Chief," Merida said quietly, clutching an arrow in her hands to keep them from wandering to the Viking's arm.

"Thanks," he whispered, shoulders hunching and arms crossing over his chest. For a second Merida thought he was going to cry, but instead he took a deep, shuddering breath, and straightened his shoulders. "It's okay, though. I tell Disa that her mom's a Valkyrie, one of the shield-maidens of Valhalla. Sometimes I even believe it myself. Astrid would be the most badass Valkyrie in all of the Nine Realms, thrashing Ice Giants and Dark Elves at Freyja's right hand, and helping Dad in Valhalla prepare for Ragnarok."

Something about the tone of the Chief's voice, the obvious love he still held for his dead wife, twisted at Merida's heart.

"Mah dad's goin' tae go any day, now," she said quietly, sliding the arrow in her hands back into her quiver. "His health's been failin' since spring, an' now he cannae even leave his bed. He dosnae recognize me, or me brothers. Mum's been tryin' tae teach me diplomacy, but ye see how well tha's workin' out." She forced herself to meet his eyes squarely, her mother's voice in the back of her mind telling her to _straighten yer back, lift yer chin, enunciate_. "Ah need tae apologize fer my cruel words earlier, Chief Hiccup. Ah was frightened, an' takin' it out on ye unfairly. 'Twas wrong o' me, an' Ah'm truly sorry."

She forced herself not to bite her lip as the Viking studied her, face impassive. "You've never actually fought a real battle, have you?" He asked suddenly.

Merida didn't see how that was relevant, but answered truthfully anyway. "Nae, Ah havenae."

"You're lucky," Chief Hiccup told her plainly. "I hate fighting. Not very Viking of me, I know, but that's the way it is. Unfortunately, I don't see how we can avoid it in this case."

Merida bit her lip, and stared at the ground.

"Hey, it's getting late," the Chief said suddenly. "Come to our camp and have supper with us. Your mom let us go hunting with some of your guys, and since you put on that nice feast for us, I felt like we should return the favor. Your mom and brothers are gonna be there, too, and you can meet some of my warriors."

Merida wasn't sure she wanted to, but she was getting hungry, and the Chief had been quite kind accepting her apology for her earlier behavior. And she didn't want Elinor even _angrier_ at her for refusing the invitation of a visiting dignitary after she'd already insulted him.

"Alrigh', let's go," she said. "Lemme jus' go put me weapons awa'—"

"Don't worry about it," the Chief interrupted, shrugging. "We've got weapons racks, and my guys tend to eat with their swords on their backs when they're not at home, anyway. You'll fit right in."

"Mum will be appalled," Merida said, smiling at the mental image of the Queen surrounded by armed men stuffing their faces at the table in the castle throne room.

Chief Hiccup laughed.

"My dad would be appalled, too," he said as he led the way to the cluster of tents in the distance. "When I became Chief, I banned weapons from the village Mead Hall, since a lot of people preferred to settle arguments with swords and hammers instead of words. Dad would've had a heart attack if he'd been around to see it, but the number of "accidents" in the Mead Hall has plummeted, so I call that progress."

They reached the camp, and the Chief was immediately set upon by a huge black shadow. Merida's hand flew to the hilt of her sword at her waist, but something stopped her from drawing. It took a second to register that the Chief was _laughing_.

"Toothless!" He gasped out between snorts of laughter. "Toothless, cut it out! Stop! Get off, you useless reptile!"

"DADDY!" Out of nowhere, the small form of the Chief's daughter flung herself onto the dragon's back, her short arms wrapped around the scaly neck. Merida let out a rather embarrassing squeak of terror at the sight of the tiny wee lass _wrestling_ with the huge beast.

"Oh no, bud, we're under attack!" The Chief exclaimed in a voice full of playful terror. "The Mighty Mite is after your ears! We gotta get her off before she eats them!"

"Rawr! Nom nom nom!" Lady Disa giggled, wriggling up the Lord Dragon's neck and biting on the odd ear-like plates protruding from his head. The Lord Dragon growled and reared back slowly, giving the shrieking girl time to wrap her legs around his neck. Chief Hiccup scrambled out of the way as the reptile came back down on all fours and shook his broad head, trying to dislodge the lass, who was squealing with laughter.

"Hang on, Toothless, I'm coming to help!" The Chief declared. He ran over to the pair, reached up, and started tickling Lady Disa. The girl's playful shrieks took on a new pitch, and the Lord Dragon waited a heartbeat before bucking gently. Lady Disa slid right off of the beast's neck and into her father's arms.

"Hah! I got you, ya little monster!" He crowed, continuing to tickle the wriggling, shrieking little girl. "I'm the Dragon Master, bow before me! ARRRGH!"

"No! Imma Viking! Don't wanna bow!" Lady Disa yelped, giggling. "Toothless, help! Toothless!"

The Lord Dragon roared, and pranced around the two humans, nuzzling them here and there with his broad head.

"Oh no, the little monster's called in reinforcements!" The Chief exclaimed. "The unholy offspring of lightning and death, come to battle the great Dragon Master! The Dragon Peace is over! Oh, the horror! Vikings and dragons, enemies again!"

Both girl and dragon chortled, and Lady Disa landed a nice kick to Chief Hiccup's ribs, causing him to grunt.

"Oh, she got me!" He groaned dramatically, slumping to the ground. "The great Dragon Master is defeated! Dragons have taken over the Archipelago! Oh, what will become of the poor Vikings?" He sprawled out flat on his back on the ground, making the most ridiculous "death" face Merida had ever seen. Lady Disa rolled out of his slack arms, and crawled up to peer into his face. The Lord Dragon sat down on his haunches and leaned over the girl like a great black shadow, huge green eyes curious as a cat as he crooned at his human.

"Daddy?" Lady Disa asked, poking the Chief's nose with a finger. "You're not dead."

A heartbeat, then Merida jumped as he opened his eyes suddenly and reached for the little girl with a hissed "No!"

Lady Disa and the Lord Dragon jumped as well, the wee lass giggling as she scrambled away and raced off into the camp, the great black beast trotting after her like one of Merida's dad's hounds.

"Wash up for supper, Disa!" Chief Hiccup called after her, standing and brushing off his tunic and leggings.

"I got the hatchling covered, Chief!" Hollered a passing Viking warrior. Merida had to do a double-take—that warrior was a _woman_.

"Thanks, Bulda!" The Chief shouted back.

"Tha' was a _lady_ , righ'?" Merida asked faintly.

"Huh? Yeah, Bulda the Boulder," Chief Hiccup replied absently, beckoning the princess to follow him. "She's a fair hand with a war-hammer."

"Ye hae _lady_ warriors?"

The Chief stopped, and his eyes widened. "Oh," he murmured. "Yes Princess, Berk has female warriors. Have for centuries, now. It's pretty much the norm throughout the Archipelago, since constant attacks by dragons kinda made it necessary for every able body available to protect the villages. Now shieldmaidens are just as respected as men."

"Tha's incredible!" Merida grinned. "How many shieldmaidens do ye hae in yer group righ' now? Can Ah meet 'em? Are any o' 'em archers?"

The Chief grinned as he led her through the camp. "Of the seventy-eight warriors in my band, there's thirty-two shieldmaidens, and of course you can meet them. They'd be thrilled to find a shieldmaiden here. We'll wash up, and I'll go introduce you to Bulda—she'll take you to the rest of them."

After a rather hilarious misunderstanding involving exactly what "washing up" entailed (Merida hadn't known someone's face could get that red), Chief Hiccup took Merida to meet his best shieldmaiden, exchanging the princess for his daughter as though the pair of them were dry goods being bartered. Merida couldn't find it in herself to be offended, since the woman she found herself talking to was so bloody _interesting_. A discussion about their favorite weapons turned into a debate over the best way to grip a sword, with nearby warriors, male and female, chipping in with their own opinions. Eventually, Merida found herself surrounded with what had to be every shieldmaiden in the Berkian force, clamoring to meet the warrior princess. Bulda declared Merida an honorary shieldmaiden of the Hairy Hooligan tribe of Berk (Merida couldn't help but feel that the name was appropriate), and the women all claimed her as a sister-in-arms, presenting her with a hastily made but gorgeous braided leather headband, which Bulda told her was called a _kransen_.

"Only shieldmaidens wear these, as a sign of our status as warriors," the large woman told her as she helped Merida fasten it. "With this and your weapons and armor, you'll never be mistaken for a helpless maid."

Merida would've been perfectly happy to spend the entire night with her new sisters, but she had to put in an appearance to Elinor, or the Queen wouldn't let her hear the end of it. Thanking her new friends, she detached herself from the group to find her mother.

The Queen was sitting by the firepit in the center of the camp, deep in conversation with Chief Hiccup, and both looking grave. They both looked up as she approached, and Chief Hiccup grinned when he saw the _kransen_ on her brow.

"I see you've been sucked into the cult," he drawled, raising his tankard to her in salute. "They must _really_ like you."

Merida grinned proudly. "But o' course," she replied, tossing her hair. "Those ladies know quality when they clap eyes on it."

The Chief snickered into his tankard, as Elinor sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who've made it down here: Yes, I do plan to kill off Astrid in Table of Kings. I love Hiccstrid, especially as portrayed in HTTYD2, but Merricup is my OTP for the Rise of the Brave Tangled Frozen Dragons fandom, and I honestly believe that Hiccup and Merida would be very, very good for each other. However, rest assured that Astrid will go out in a manner completely fitting her awesomeness and badassery, and Hiccup will not get over her quickly or easily.
> 
> So, here's the end. I can't wait to start posting Table of Kings in its finished form, and thank you to everyone who commented and left kudos! 
> 
> Until then, happy reading!
> 
> 00AwkwardPenguin00


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